


Coma

by rosepetal987



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-15
Updated: 2014-07-15
Packaged: 2018-02-09 00:28:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1962033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosepetal987/pseuds/rosepetal987
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Coma consists of Vexen being a writer and Marluxia his live in aid. It is mostly about their day to day lives of being a gay couple in New York, as long as balancing friends and family and their pasts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coma

**Author's Note:**

> This is the very beginning of the fic Coma, and more so sets the main issue of the story. It was written over two years ago.

The year was 2011, and the location was Eastern New York, upper side, and the problem was as clear as the spring air outside the window blocked by newspapers and boxes. The blond was stuck, trapped and silently cursing at the blinking line on his screen that served to remind him that he was supposed to be typing and filling the page, but his mind was as blocked as the window and the blond instead huffed and leaned back in his chair. Acidic eyes boring holes into a white ceiling, or he believed it to be white; the lighting in his office did not serve him well when it came to seeing anything past the computer, and while he did have nearly perfect eyesight-reading glasses did delicately balance on his nose but the New York air and the fact he was nearing fifty had caused that-the lighting in the room was horrible. He had turned on the lamp at his desk when he entered the room in the morning, his usual routine after breakfast with his lover, and he was quick to glance at his clock at the thought of the redhead: 7:23, he would surely be up to bother him soon enough about dinner.  
Their situation was not that unique, two men living together and even if there was a drastic seventeen year age difference between the two it hardly served to stop either of them. Of course it did make some situations a bit awkward to approach, but that was normal for any couple. His pale hand rose to message at his brow at the thought. His work had kept him busy and inside and had put just another bump into the road of his relationship, even if his lover never seemed bothered by it, or perhaps the florist was just that good of an actor, or perhaps the three years already together had simply made the man used to the blond’s horrible schedule and other habits.  
He was a simple writer, and it was supposed to be an escape. His parents had pushed him into medical school and while he had been with it for a few years the field did not suit him. The people around him and a hospital did not suit him, and instead he had started writing. It was a push from his younger sister that had even provoked him to try and publish. The blonde painter connected him to a friend of hers and by some kind of miracle the work had been published. It had been fiction, pure and simple, science fiction and it was supposed to be a joke. Supposed to be the pure opposite of what he had been doing in the hospital, but it had caught on and his career had started.  
“Vexen,” the voice was a soft baritone and said man was pulled from his thoughts as bright eyes that he had not even realized had fallen closed blinked back open.  
“Dinner?” a simple response and the blond slowly sat back up in his chair, back cracking into place as his hands stretched above his head. If the cracking was due to his age and his underweight status or the fact that he had hardly moved in some hours was anyone’s best guess.  
“Correct, my apologizes for it being so late.” It was a formality of speech that came with the age difference, and just how far apart their fields of work were. The redhead had once been a nurse, and in a way it was how the two had first meet. They had not worked in the same hospital; the blond had worked in Connecticut but his sister some years ago had a showing in New York and the blond had taken off time to see it. It was one she had worked on, and the blond had always encouraged his sister to follow her dream. They had been a family of dreams: a guitarist, a baker, a painter, a writer, and the eldest brother was the only one that had kept to their parent’s wants and had stayed as a doctor.  
The next few minutes were something of a daze to the blond. The fact he had not slept properly the last few days finally catching up to him as he was lead down stairs by a strong hand tightly holding onto his rather frail one. The differences of strength between the two had always been evident, and always there: Even had always been a man made of porcelain and glass, unlike the redhead who was like the steams of the roses he adored. That is how they usually walked, hand in hand, a purely romantic gesture now matched with a safety measure.  
Their dinner went uneventful, common talk of work and plans of the evening amongst it, and eventually a promise to get out of house in a need to help Vexen’s writers block. The blond admitting somewhere between Marluxia clearing the table and being lead back upstairs that he could not write and thus it was pointless to return to his study.  
There was one more topic that was brought up, though, and it brought a light tinge of pink to both man’s cheeks. “Do you think it’ll pass?” It was redhead who first mentioned it, and soon enough a pale hand was being set on his cheek as the blond spoke.  
“Marluxia, if it does do you-do you-” and he was trailing off and being comforted by the nuzzling of his hand, a rather catlike gesture and one he had become used to.  
“Yes, Vexen, I’ll marry you.” New York was working up to be a state to pass it, and both men could only beg that they did. The years together had made it feel impossible to be apart, and the benefits that came with marriage would surely be helpful to both men.


End file.
